that STUPID WEASLEY CLOCK!
by TheLittleFreak
Summary: Molly's all alone in the kitchen when she catches a glimpse of her clock. RHr implied, but the hysterics and hilarity are ALL Molly. read and review, puh-leeeese


*a.n* This is just a dumb little 1-shot that I thought of when I first started writing fanfiction and finally I had to time to write it. I don't own any of the characters, (DUH!!!!!!!) but like I'm gonna let that stop me…

Molly Weasley was bumbling around in her happy little kitchen. No, scratch that, she was leaning on the door of her happy little kitchen while her dishes made dinner.

She was a little depressed. It was almost Christmas, and she was going to be alone. 

_*Let's see. . . _

_Arthur was going to stay at the Order's new headquarters for guard duty. I don't blame him—St. Mungo's is a very high-profile spot, and who knows how many people were staying to secure it. But still…_

_Bill and Charlie are never home anymore—always busy taming dragons or finding gold. I'm so proud of them (even though Bill looks like a hippie with all that hair), but I'd be happier if they came bursting through the door like they used to right now. . ._

_Percy is still being disowned by the family, so of course he didn't come home. And who knows how he's getting along, all alone in the big world. . . without a sweater. . ._

_Ginny's going to stay with Fred and George at their new place in Diagon Alley. They invited me to come for the holidays, but not until Boxing Day, for who knows what reason. They're probably still not moved in yet, and have all sorts of dangerous trash lying around. . ._

_Harry's with Hermione at some Muggle event. Now what was it again—heelball? Ankleball? No, no. . . Football? I dunno. . . _

_Ronnie DID come home, bless his little heart, but he won't leave his room. No explosions yet, so he's not becoming the twins, but then again, silence in this house is very strange. . . *_

**Ding!**

_*Oop! There's the bell, dinner's done!*_

Molly came out of her reverie just in time to catch the wooden spoon hurtling towards her head, and managed to keep busy for several minutes while enchanting the dishes and food to put themselves on the table. 

"Now, all I need are some napkins. Where did Ron put them. . .  oh, yes, in the cupboard over the clock. . ."

(as you might notice, she's still depressed enough to be unable to finish a complete sentence.)

She bustled over to the cupboard, opened the drawer, and she had just stuck her hand inside to grab the napkins when her eyes slid up to the clock as they usually did.

She froze. Her face went white as new parchment, mouth tightened, and her fingers started to quake.

Ron's hand was pointing towards MORTAL PERIL.

"NO!!!!!!! NOT RONNIE, NOOOOOOO!!!!!!! I'LL SAVE YOU, RONNIE!!!!!!!!!!"

Before Molly even knew what was going on, she was halfway up the tower stairs to where Ron's bedroom was. Since it was an extremely long staircase, she had time to invent horrible fates for her darling son even when running full sprint up 2-foot high steps.

_*Maybe he's falling out the window. . . or  his owl's gone beserk. Or. . ._

_HIM.  HE's probably figured out that the best way to Harry was through his best friend and he's torturing him or possessing him maybe he's already dead!!!!!*_

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

*pant pant*

_" I WON'T LET VOLDEMORT GET YOU OR HARRY OR ANYONE I LOVE BUT YOU THE MOST!!!! I'LL  SAVE YOU, RONNIE!!!!!!!!!!*"_

And as Molly finally burst through Ron's bedroom door screaming those last words, brandishing her wand like a sword. . .

She was completely and utterly embarrassed.

See, Ron was not in MORTAL PERIL after all. He was laying on his bed. Snogging a wizard photo of what turned out to be a very happy Hermione. 

". . ."

"Mum?" Ron looked very confused, which looks very odd when your face is roughly the same color as a tomato. (well, you'd be embarrassed too if YOUR mum caught you like that. . .)

 Molly had some trouble finding anything to say—plus her tongue seemed to be frozen. About after a minute, it finally thawed and she managed to push out some words.

"Er. . .um. . .yeah. I'm going to leave now."

"Ok. You do that."

So she did. As she stepped out onto the stairs and closed her son's door, the now-useless adrenaline flooding her system only let her think a single solitary thought—

*_I really should get that clock fixed.*_


End file.
